Past the pain and grandeur that accompany growth can sometimes come the realization that you might end up exactly where you started. The Auckland, New Zealand-based four piece the Beths reckon with this conundrum on their fourth studio album, Straight Line Was a Lie, which adds a more introspective tone to the adrenaline-packed indie rock they’ve always done well.
The Beths debuted in 2018 with the catchy, self-aware Future Me Hates Me. Straight Line Was a Lie is a baby step away from their previous LPs, slowing things down a bit for a strummier, reflective sound that balances ennui with that tongue-in-cheek angst. Vocalist and songwriter Elizabeth Stokes understands the meaning of “Wherever you go, there you are,” as she delicately weaves through a confrontation with herself while also singing about integrating antidepressants into her life. With clever hooks and sharp vocals, her sweet melodies are tethered by creative partner and fellow guitarist Jonathan Pierce’s crunchy melody lines, along with driving bass lines and stacked vocals from bandmates Benjamin Sinclair and Tristan Deck.
On the title track, the band grapples with the fact that growth is not always a triumphant homecoming but often a repeating process, summed up in the simple declaration, “I thought I was getting better/But I’m back to where I started/And the straight line was a circle/Yeah, the straight line was a lie.” On “No Joy,” Stokes laments the numbness accompanying her new prescription routine with a vacant delivery over fuzzy, surf-rock style guitars: “Only level lately/Anhedonic on the daily/Wanna feel, but I am failing,” she sings.
Over melancholic fingerpicking, Stokes faces the chasm of misunderstanding between mother and daughter on “Mother, Pray for Me.” It’s a gut punch that offers a worthy respite from the speedier songs in the middle of the record. This is some of Stokes’ finest songwriting, tenderly asking her mother for a sign from the afterlife despite their glaring difference in beliefs: “But one day if you arrive/Just send me a small sign/I don’t need the proof of place/Just tell me you got there safe.”
The melancholy deepens in the second half of the record with “Till My Heart Stops,” a meditation on how severance from the self and general despondency brought on by antidepressants are magnified by relationships. The song expertly plays with perspective, admitting the singer’s own tendency to isolate, paired with minimal instrumentation in the first verse before kicking into gear in the second. The album’s mood lifts back into energetic, classic Beths territory with “Roundabout,” a playful declaration of love that sweetly accepts the slightly embarrassing patheticism that comes with being in love.
Straight Line Was a Lie culminates in a moment of meandering, expansive resignation on “Best Laid Plans,” a meditation on the unpredictability of growth with a swirling, almost anthemic chorus carrying the listener to the end: “Take my money/Take my hands/Leave me lying with my best laid plans,” Stokes offers. Four records in, the Beths know their formula works — their strengths lie in ear-worm choruses, insightful lyrics, and Stokes’ sweet, knowing vocals, all anchored by stacked harmonies and sharp guitars. Straight Line Was a Lie finds the band embracing an openhearted surrender to every aspect of growth while acknowledging that the cycle will inevitably begin again.
